Statistical Improbablities
by Beanpot
Summary: Sam/Rodney Written for Rare Pairings Ficathon and Set post Season 10 "Road Not Taken"


_Not my sandbox...written for the Rare Pairings Ficathon_

**Statistical Improbabilities**

"This is positively the scariest place I have ever been", Rodney whispered in a voice that carried and caused hostile glares to be shot in their direction.

Sam rubbed her forehead for the fourteenth time in the last hour – he'd been counting as there was nothing else to do - as she whispered to him, "McKay, shut up. These people are ready to kill you."

"Oh, like that's anything new. I've faced all kinds of death; this is just the first time I've wanted to hasten it along." As he spoke, an elderly man turned and tried to stare Rodney down with a glare. Rodney just rolled his eyes and snapped at the man, "Yes, I'm talking about you."

"Seriously, Rodney, if you do not shut up right now, I will gladly kill you myself and it will not be pleasant," Sam hissed out between clenched teeth. She shifted in place, possibly trying to stretch out her back from being in a cramped position for hours with no end in sight. Rodney's own back was twinging in weird places and he knew that neither of them had painkillers close-by.

A few minutes passed before he spoke up again, "Why is there no air in here? I can't breathe and it's hot. I hate small spaces. I swear the walls are closing in and we are going to die in here." His words ran together in the rush to get them out. He took a deep breath before turning to look at Sam and say, "This is your fault."

She glared at him and replied, "How is it my fault? It wasn't my idea to come here– it was Bill's."

A voice emerged from behind them, "You leave me out of this", said Bill Lee as he defended his honor by kicking the back of their seats. The rows of chairs were so close together he barely nudged them, but they still both turned to glare at Bill.

They were all stuck in the back of a small, cramped conference room in a second rate Holiday Inn located somewhere between interestate 95 and Never Never Land, listening to a scientist at on a conference drone on about his theory regarding stable wormhole travel and his amazing machine to create on.

When the conference's entire agenda was publicized on the internet. the event was flagged with alerts to both the SGC and Atlantis. This scientist – a Dr. Moran - was never involved in the program, but there were too many familiar proposals. Fearing a leak, three of the program's top scientists were sent to investigate and if necessary, plug the leaks. Five hours into the conference and forty-five minutes into the main event, and so far everything had been ridiculous and Dr. Moran had only revealed that he'd seen a few episodes of Wormhole Xtreme and owned a mixer.

Rodney glanced at his coffee mug and muttered, "There isn't enough caffeine in the world to make up for how boring and completely wrong this moron is." Everyone within hearing distance turned his direction for yet more death glares. Sam jabbed him in the side with her elbow and muttered something about wishing she'd brought a zat to either shoot the moron on stage, Rodney, or herself.

Ten minutes later, Dr. Moran brought out what looked like an eight-track machine and a toaster and was attempting to show the correct rotational momentum necessary to create stable fluctuations at the mouth of the wormhole. When he pulled out a hand-crank ice cream maker, Sam lost all patience and snapped, "Is he making sundaes? I swear I built a working airplane with those same parts when I was ten."

"I built a bomb," mumbled Rodney.

From behind them, Bill chimed in, "I built a scale replica of the original Enterprise".

They swerved to look at him a before exchanging a bemused glance. Rodney leaned over to whisper in Sam's ear, "Twenty bucks says he still has it."

Sam grinned as she replied, "Pretty sure I still have my airplane in a box somewhere." She looked around the room and noticed that most people were beginning to nod off. Bill was busy scribbling notes and looking far more interested than he should. Rodney, on the other hand, knew he was fidgeting like a toddler in a church service. Sam bent down to pick up her bag and whispered to Rodney, "Come on, this is a waste of time."

With a nod to Bill, the two of them not-so-quietly snuck out of the small room and made their way to the cramped hotel bar. It was wall-to-wall people attempting to escape the mind-numbing boredom of the cramped conference rooms. Sam and Rodney carved themselves out a small space at the bar, primarily through Rodney's elbows and him pointing to Sam while threatening, "the blonde may be hot, but she can totally kick your ass".

"Cheers," said Sam as they clinked tumblers filled with halfway decent scotch. Rodney took a sip then glanced at her sideways.

"Are we really drinking at a bar together?" he asked, a weird smile - half amused, half wary - crossing his face.

"Desperate times," she replied, gulping down half the glass.

"Sam, you okay?" Rodney's hand reached out, stopping just short of her wrist. She'd been on edge since he'd stepped back on Earth – uneasy and blunter than normal with her staff according to the rumor mill. Plus, every time he'd gone into her office, Teal'c had been standing guard over Sam and he'd heard the rest of her team wouldn't let her out of their sights for more than an hour.

Sam swirled the remainder of the scotch around in the glass before taking another sip. She half smiled and replied, "I'm fine, Rodney. Just a bit tired."

"Bullshit. You're not 'just a bit tired'. You look like hell - still better than most people- but you look awful. And I heard someone say you were just as bad as me with the yelling at staff and such. While I think you should take on a few of my management habits, I'm pretty sure they didn't mean it as a compliment." He stopped talking when he saw she was glaring at him over the rim of her glass. "Oh don't give me that look."

Rodney felt vindicated as a grin crossed Sam's lips. "Seasons will change, big bads with god complexes bent on world domination will change, but you, Rodney McKay, will always be the same. That brings me great comfort," she said.

"Not fair – I've changed. I'm nicer now and have learned to listen to the verbal editor in my head." As Rodney spoke, a woman jostled his arm causing his scotch to spill onto Sam's lap. He swung around and interrupted the woman's apology with, "What the hell is wrong with you? Ballet dancing hippos have more grace than you." The woman's eyes went wide before she melted back into the crowd.

"So you've begun listening to your verbal editor?" Sam asked, her amusement at the situation clear in her voice.

Rodney shrugged his shoulders and semi-sheepishly said, "When the occasion calls for it. But most of the time, it's probably not worth it. Waste time on stupid people and you all die." He scanned the room again and snapped to Sam, "Seriously, it has to be a fire hazard to have this many people stuffed into such a small room."

"You don't have to stay, Rodney. I can finish my drink by myself," Sam's voice was quiet, but he still picked up on the plaintive tone.

He stared at her. Her body language was right, her conversation was normal, but there was still something off about Sam. He stared at her like a piece of Ancient technology, trying to figure out what piece of the puzzle was askew. Finally, he said, "Sam, is your hair flatter than normal?"

Sam's glass hit the bar with a thud. Her jaw dropped open while her hand unconsciously lifted up and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. Moments passed before she smiled. And then her shoulders began to shake and finally, a laugh escaped her lips. "My hair is flat? McKay, you are by far the most infuriating man I have ever met in my life – on this planet and beyond. And yet somehow, I don't feel the desire to kill you." She paused for a moment before she half-whispered, "He must have softened me up."

"He?" asked Rodney.

"Damn," said Sam. "Wasn't planning on ever mentioning him to you." She gestured for the bartender to refill their glasses and slowly sipped it.

"Oh come on, that is the worst diversion tactic I have ever seen and about as subtle as Ronon in a china shop. Who is this he? New boyfriend? New…oh god, you didn't get married did you?" Rodney was stunned as Sam spit her sip of scotch across the bar and collapsed into a fit of giggles. He was convinced now that she was drunk because Sam Carter never giggled. Ever.

"Oh god," she gasped out. "Married. Don't even…" She stopped mid-sentence and gave him one of her affectionate looks usually reserved for her teammates. "He is you, Rodney."

Rodney stared at her, wondering which one of her teammates he should call – probably the one less likely to kill him for breaking Sam.

"Sorry," she continued. "I forgot you weren't here." Her voice dropped low to lessen the chance anyone could overhear, but the bar was even more crowded and the din had taken on the sound of a jet engine. She glanced around to ensure no one was paying attention, or pretending not be, and began again.

"A few weeks ago I was working on Merlin's Device at the same time my counterpart in another dimension was attempting to tap into ours to pull out bits of power to generate the Antarctica Chair. Somehow, I was pulled into that dimension and since I was using a force field, I survived and she…did not. For reasons that I'm not drunk enough to tell you about, it took longer to get home than I wanted, and the person who finally me helped was…you."

"So that's why you're all morose and grumpy – you missed me," he said, a grin dancing across his face.

She smiled humorlessly and said, "Believe what you must. It wasn't good there, Rodney. They were losing and good people made bad decisions, and I can't help but think…"

Rodney interrupted her, "Stop it, Sam. We both know second guessing and wondering never helps." He leaned into her a bit, nudging her with his shoulder. "So was I as handsome as I am here? Certainly as smart."

She paused before saying, "He was one of the richest people and had really cool glasses. Made him look rather sexy." She pushed back at him with her shoulder, a bit of the tension easing off of her.

"Rich, huh. Interesting…" His voice trailed off and looked at her in amazement. "You just called me sexy! I knew it, I knew you liked me."

"No, I called him sexy. You are…alright." She smiled at him and Rodney returned it.

While taking another sip of scotch, his eyes widened in surprise and he asked her, "Are you flirting with me?"

Her eyes widen in a mimic of his surprise. "Huh," she said. "Wasn't expecting that."

"So you were flirting with me!" Rodney poked her in the arm with his finger as he enunciated each word, "You. Were. Flirting. With. Me."

Sam rolled her eyes and batted his hand away, "What are you, five? Before you try to pull my hair, remember I can kill you in multiple ways."

Rodney's shoulder straightened up a bit and in a sing-song voice he repeated his previous statement, "You were flirting with me." The bartender wandered past to refill their tumblers for a third time and Rodney pointed at Sam and said to him, "She was flirting with me."

"McKay!" Sam finished her drink in three gulps and stood up. "I might – might – have been flirting with you, but it ends now. I'm going to bed."

Rodney stood up to follow her out of the room after tossing a few $20s onto the counter. "But you were flirting with me, and I'm pretty sure I was flirting back plus I paid for your drinks. In some cultures, people would call that a date."

Sam got to the elevators first and rapidly pressed the call button multiple times, attempting to ignore Rodney who was rocking back and forth on his heels. He kept up his side of the conversation by saying, "A date. We had a date, and I'm pretty sure you should pay for the second one – I suggest we find a place that serves white truffles and really expensive champagne. And then we can announce our engagement to the SGC and I'm pretty sure they will throw us a hell of an engagement party…what is it? Too far?"

Her face had gone a bit pale when he mentioned the engagement. She looked at him, her eyes a bit sad. "That other Rodney?" she said. "He was married to the other Sam – divorced for awhile. But he didn't take it well when I told him that his Sam had died."

Rodney stared at her; for once, he had nothing to say – for not only had he been rich and married, but married to her counterpart. They were silent as the small, slow elevator took them to their floor. As they stepped off, he asked, "How did that happen? I mean, how did they meet? Working at the SGC?"

"I didn't ask for details. He wasn't working for the government – just making money in the corporate world. But he joined that SGC, by force unfortunately, and he helped me out before taking on his Sam's position," she paused to fumble for her key card. She dropped in onto the rug and they both bent down to pick it up.

Their fingers closed over the key card at the same time and they slowly stood up and stared at each other. Rodney broke the silence first. "Of course he helped you out. If he's anything like me, there is no way he could've said no."

Sam smiled in acknowledgement. He continued on, "But I think he was a rather lucky bastard – he got to be married to you for awhile."

Sam shook her head no, "Not sure how lucky. That place was not good, Rodney. They hadn't even found Atlantis and Anubis managed to destroy a lot of things. Martial Law was declared and it…was bad."

Rodney shrugged, "Maybe." The silence was awkward for the moments they just stood there, Sam giving him a rather odd look. Finally, Rodney said, "Good night, Sam".

Before he walked away, Sam bent towards him and lightly brushed her lips across his cheek, "Good night, Rodney."

She slipped her card into the door and lifted her foot to cross the threshold, but she stopped and turned to face him once more. She took a step, reached her hands up to his face and pulled his lips to her. He made a small noise of surprise and stood immobile for a moment. Then his brain kicked in and he placed his hands on her waist and pulled her flush with his body. Her hands moved from his face, wrapped around his neck and deepened the kiss even more.

They pulled away, both breathing hard, cheeks flushed pink. "What the hell was that?" he asked.

"I figured I owed him for helping me and you were…there."

"If he had been here, what the hell would've you done? Slept with him? Oh my god, you would've slept with him and now I have that image in my head. You are an evil, evil woman, Sam Carter." He stopped ranting and unexpectedly pulled her close for another kiss, this one more urgent.

Sam stepped back, placed her hands on his chest to gain some distance, and said, "What the hell?"

Rodney shrugged, "I figure there is a Sam Carter out there that who probably helped me save the world so I'm just thanking her. I'd probably sleep with that one as well." Sam dropped her head to his chest, her shoulders shaking in silent laughter. She stepped back and into her room.

Rodney gently wrapped a hand around her wrist. "Don't you think we should thank them so more?"

Sam smiled at him, the tension from earlier erased from her face. "Good night, Rodney."


End file.
